I was hanging out in a bathroom with Mac because he needed to have diarrhea. He was taking forever in the bathroom when I noticed that our friend Christine was there with our other friend Shane. It looked like they were doing some sort of drug, I'm thinking heroin.
The bathroom was full of 80s looking chicks. Older women and younger. All of them at one point were doing coke, using straws to sniff from plastic cups. They were trying to hide what they were doing, but they really couldn't, and they moved very mechanically as they got stoned. Then, some of them started throwing up, and someone complained that the coke was tainted. A voice rang from the girl who supplied the coke, swearing that it was real. As more and more of the girls started getting sick, I ran outside disturbed.
Mac was really, really drunk, acting not like himself. He barged of the bathroom all messed up, dillusional and violent. He harassed some people and went back in the bathroom to poop some more.
A little while later, he called out to me in a distressed voice and asked me to come help him. As I came in, he charged out again, pushing people aside and then ran down the stairs outside.
I went looking for him a couldn't find him. I went back to the bathroom. There was diahrrea splattered everywhere and his watery footprints strewn on the floor in dirty puddles. Apperantly, his toilet had clogged, and this must have been what had upset him.
I decided to stay the night and wait for him to come back. I think I tried calling his cell continuously, to no avail.
Finally, I got a call. Mac is at the emergency room. Apparently, he fell down the stairs and hurt his wrists? Head?
He was yelling out my name angrily. He was mad at me for some reason. He told me the doctors were about to open up his chest for some reason, but they had changed there minds at the last minute. He sounded scared and wanted me to pick him up.
Suddenly, we lost connection. I felt helpless in losing him.
A 35 year old, 80s decked woman with a lot of eye makeup looked at me. She asked if my boyfriend was the one with the tight black shirt with some punk band name, black pants, and curly hair-who came in with me last night. I said yes. She gave me a lusty look above her cigarette smoke, and told me she thought he was hot.
I got weirded out by her.
I woke up, feeling pretty physically crappy.
Disclaimer: Haha, thanks Big Boy. This was a dream. It did not happen in real life. Though based on real life characters, the characters in my dream were fictional recreations from my own subconcious. So, don't point at Mac and laugh. Hahaha!
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